


Again Bring Me Up

by Cumberbatch Critter (ivelostmyspectacles)



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Everyone lives/Nobody dies, Gen, M/M, Post-Game(s), Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-05
Updated: 2017-07-05
Packaged: 2018-11-23 16:58:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11406657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivelostmyspectacles/pseuds/Cumberbatch%20Critter
Summary: He didn’t know exactly what he expected– an empty room, devoid of all of his things, or maybe cluttered up like it had been when he had first moved in– but he hadn’t expected to see a lone figure on the sofa, knees drawn up to his chest, brown hair pulled back into a ponytail–He felt like his stomach had gone and entirely dropped out.“Akechi…?”





	Again Bring Me Up

_Though you have made me see troubles, many and bitter, you will restore my life again; from the depths of the earth you will again bring me up - Psalm 71:20_

 

Akira had been home for seven and a half months when Sojiro phoned him and told him that he had better get back to Tokyo, as soon as possible. He didn’t say why, and he didn’t give him anything else to go on except _“you’re probably the only one who can deal with this”_ , but that alone spoke enough by itself. It clearly had something to do with the Metaverse, and Sojiro’s tone was severe enough that, damning school, Akira left a note behind for his parents that an emergency had happened with his friends in Tokyo, and got on the soonest train.

He tried to text Sojiro along the way, but all he was told was that nobody was dead– thanks, Sojiro– and that he shouldn’t contact his friends asking about it. Something _only_ for him. Was the Metaverse back? Was there something wrong with Futaba? Something bad happening re: the investigation that he had been cleared from? He wanted more information, but getting irritated at Sojiro wouldn’t help. There was clearly a reason he wanted only him, so Akira texted him back a simple _ok_ and stared out the window on the way to Tokyo.

It felt both too similar and too different to the first time he had come here. He was still filled with a growing sense of dread, but for different reasons than it had the first time. He wasn’t moving to a new city. He was going back to deal with… something. Two different kinds of dread, but neither of them lessened the feeling stuck in the pit of his stomach as he dodged around the people in Yongen-Jaya.

The sign was flipped to CLOSED as Akira let himself in, and the bell on the door still tinkled merrily as he had remembered it. (It sounded like _home_.)

“Hey, we’re closed– oh, it’s you.”

“I got here as soon as I could.” He was a little out of breath from the run, or the nerves. He wasn’t sure.

“You don’t waste any time.”

“You said it was important.” He dumped his bag onto the booth. Morgana would hate him for not bringing him, but he hadn’t had the time to go looking for him. He would deal with it after he dealt with this.

Sojiro’s face was already drawn, but seemed to cloud over even further at that. “It is. I didn’t know who else to go to, I barely understood all of your… Phantom Thieves stuff, and then _this_ …”

“What happened?”

“I think you had better see for yourself.” He pointed up to the attic and Akira frowned but strode to the stairs.

He didn’t know exactly what he expected– an empty room, devoid of all of his things, or maybe cluttered up like it had been when he had first moved in– but he hadn’t expected to see a lone figure on the sofa, knees drawn up to his chest, brown hair pulled back into a ponytail–

He felt like his stomach had gone and entirely dropped out. _“Akechi…?”_

Akechi looked up sharply, the expression on his face mirroring the one that must have been on Akira’s. Then he laughed dryly, propping his chin back on his knees. “I should have known it would be you.”

“If it was up to me,” Sojiro said from behind him, and Akira hadn’t even known that he’d followed him up, “I would have handed his ass right over to Sae. Let them deal with him. But I thought I better ask you since, well, you headed up this mess.”

Akira wasn’t listening. He _couldn’t_. Akechi was _here_. Akechi was _alive_. He supposed that he ought to be… angry, or scared, or… something. _Anything_ , insofar as negative reactions went. But… he was here, he was _alive_ –

“I’ll let you deal with it,” Sojiro said. “Let me know if you need… something.”

Akira nodded. He felt numb, listening to Sojiro and staring at Akechi. All traces of the Metaverse, save Morgana, but that barely counted now, had been gone… for _seven months_. Akechi had been gone for even longer–

“I’m sorry,” Akechi said suddenly, eyes sliding to him. “I shouldn’t have… I didn’t have anywhere else to go.” He sounded wretched. He looked wretched. Akira thought that he probably ought to be, that _he_ ought to be _yelling_ at him or calling someone, probably Sae, but he could only stand there and stare at the man he had– for more than half a year now– thought was dead.

Then he found himself moving to the sofa, sinking to his knees in a state of numb suspension, and reaching up to take Akechi’s face in his hands just to prove to himself that he was here. He was real, he was here, he was _alive_.

Oh _God_ , he was _alive_.

Akechi was tense, head lifted just a half inch off his knees as Akira had approached and then frozen when Akira had taken his face in his hands. His eyes looked at him, and then away. And back, with an audible swallow, and Akira didn’t know if he wanted to hit him or kiss him, but he settled with grabbing Akechi’s shoulder and pulling him into what might have been the most emotional hug in his life.

He couldn’t see what the look on Akechi’s face might have been, but his entire body seemed to tense up even more and then _wilt_ , like there was nothing left to hold him up except Akira’s arm around him. Maybe it was true. Maybe he deserved it. Maybe– definitely– Akira would think about it later, but he heard Akechi’s breathy little gasp and felt him turn his face into his neck, and right now, Akechi was _alive_. He was _here_.

“Oh God.” A breathe of warm air against his neck. “I’m–”

“Don’t,” Akira interrupted, and Akechi was silent. “Not now,” he continued shortly. “Just… later.” He swallowed, splayed his fingers against Akechi’s back and ignored the hitch in his returned companion’s breath, ignored the subtle trembling and the tears burning his own eyes. It had been too _long_ , it had been too long without _answers_ –

He would have them, soon, and he would have the reasons, too, and he didn’t know if it was going to change anything one way or the other. But he would have them, as he now had Akechi, nestled up warm and _alive_ against his chest.

He didn’t know if it would be okay, but by God they would _be_. And that was enough. It was more than he had dared to let himself hope for.

**Author's Note:**

> my new favourite thing has become finding religious verses to apply to Akechi
> 
> oh my god I ship them so hard. not that you'd know, because of the Shukita, but I dooo. been meaning to write the reunion fic (and stop before they have the shouty painful angry conversation that needs to follow because hoo boy) and now I finally got around to it
> 
> man I hope this boy isn't canonically dead T_T let me dream


End file.
